


The Mother of Many

by Ren (mizdarknezz3)



Series: Greenland's Adventures Through Life [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bombing, Child Death, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Poetry, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22942987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizdarknezz3/pseuds/Ren
Summary: During World War Two Greenland is stuck in London alone. Until she hears someone inside England's house that doesn't belong there.
Series: Greenland's Adventures Through Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648750
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter One: Little Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This story is best read if you read my other work A Family Curse, but you don't have to. This is just a quick little story about an important event in Greenland's past, I decided since I have writers block for A Family Cursed I'd start writing this out. Pay attention to the tags for triggers please, I would like everyone to stay safe while reading this! I hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts, I'd love to hear them, and have a great day!

Greenland sat outside as she watched the bombs fall. She could get blown up any minute, in fact the house she was at should be a target of the Germans, but she wasn’t worried. If she was hit then she wouldn’t feel it, and when she reformed hopefully it would be back in her own land. The blimps weren’t too difficult to make out in the night sky, their fat bodies hovering over the city. The people down the hill of the house she stayed at were all hopefully hiding in shelters. They were scared, and they were innocent in this whole mess. Just family’s trying to go through everyday life. She knew people down there, not well, but by name. There was Robert and his wife Janet that ran the store she went to buy food. They weren’t doing so well as everyone was losing money from the war, so she made sure to always get her food there instead of somewhere bigger. There were the Evans’ that would sell her paper and pencil for her writing. There was Oliver who brought her the mail. They could all die tonight, their homes destroyed, barely a body to find. But humans lives were so short anyway, she could remember Afton who used to sell fur pelts to England while she stood in one of those ridiculous poofy dresses and he’d make passes at her for looking so “exotic.” He had died a long time ago. The marker to his grave barely stood still. 

It was difficult to express her feelings about this place and its people. She didn’t belong, her skin color made it very clear back in the day and even today some people would make rude comments about it. She had never lost her accent after living her for hundreds of years, though that was by choice. If she wanted she could pretend to be the perfect English gentlewoman. But she had no interest in that and never would. Being forcibly dragged from your land and forced to adapt to a new place did that to a person, well, personification. However that was the result of the government and the personification of England, not the peoples fault. She shouldn’t treat them with the same bias she gave their country, although, all of it was a little frustrating. She couldn’t wear the same clothes as the men, and the comments on her skin were tiring, she stayed away from the humans that treated her differently for that. Although, almost all the humans treated her a little differently. There were legends about her and the house she was staying at after all. England had been living there for a long time now, ergo so had she, and they don’t age. The police were told to stay away from their house, because really if they did something worth the police checking out then someone much higher than a regular officer would take care of it. England had gone off to war, and she had gone around trying to find someone to take her to Greenland, and everyone had looked at her like she was crazy. While the regular people didn’t know much about them they knew that they were one, rich, two strange, and three had high connections. If she needed someone else’s help to get out of England it was probably illegal in their minds. 

All the contemplation of humans made her tired, the lights from the fires didn’t feel nearly as interesting. So she decided to go inside and go to bed. Hopefully she’d be blown up in her sleep. But then she would lose everything she had made over the years, all her writings, that would be disappointing. As she headed inside she heard a crash and she stopped. The only person currently staying in this house was her. England went off to war. Anyone who used to live in this house was also currently at war. The only reason she wasn’t at war was because anyone that knew her knew she would take the opportunity to go back to her own country. So there was a burglar in the house and she was unarmed. Well, she knew how to fight, and she could probably take a few bullets more than a human before collapsing, so she was ready to take her chances. She opened the door. Inside the lights were on and she was greeted with an empty living room. It was big enough to fit at least seven people. The house was built with the intention of a full household, and for a moment it was used, but now there were only two of them there and it was empty. She made her way to the kitchen as she assumed anyone out stealing during the bombings was desperate and poor, they were probably hungry. She couldn’t really blame them for coming here to steal, the ancient house with a rich family that only currently housed a lone girl who didn’t do anything to support the war? Seemed like the perfect guilt free house to take from. She would probably give them some food and some money and send them on their way. She had all of this planned, but when she turned the corner her heart ached a little. She expected a dirty man with shaggy hair throwing cans in a bag. Instead there was a boy who couldn’t be older than ten standing on a chair holding a can trying to find a can opener she presumed. He turned as she came in and froze. 

“It’s in the drawer to your right. But I was about to make an actual dinner, if you want some.” She told him. It was a flat out lie. She didn’t like to cook so she had just eaten a can of beans an hour ago and called it good. But England was an awful cook so she had learned how so she could make a nice meal. She had some ham and eggs. Kids definitely didn’t deserve to go hungry. They boy unfroze but still seemed very tense. He stayed on the chair. She didn’t stare at him or wait for a response, if he wanted to leave with his unopened can he could go ahead. He probably wanted to take it home. Did he have a home? He should probably stay here anyway, going out during a bombing wasn’t safe, hell it wasn’t safe to be in the house. But if she were him there was no way she was going in the tiny bomb shelter with a stranger. So she pulled out the ingredients and started cooking. Playing housemaid was a role she had gotten good at over the years. England liked it when she was quiet. So she worked silently. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the boy get down off the chair and cradle the can in his hands, but he didn’t leave. He stood and watched her from a distance. She took in little details about him as she worked. He was pale and covered in freckles. He had brown hair with a slightly red tint. He was skinny and his clothes were too big. He had a white button up shirt covered in dirt stains and was fraying at the seams. His pants were dark blue and one had a hole in the knee and were equally dirty. Logic pointed to him not having a home to go to. Children were being sent away all the time now, trying to get them away from the danger. Not to mention parents sacrificing themselves to protect their kids. There were probably plenty of homeless runaways or survivors around. Who knew which he was. She started setting the table for two as she waited for the food to cook. She put each plate on opposite sides of the table so he could have his space. He put the can down on the counter and sat down.

“Are you really a witch Miss?” He asked, which took her a little off guard. He wouldn’t say a word and now she was being accused of being a witch. She would have been offended if she didn’t live with a wizard. 

“No.” She answered and he nodded.

“Is the house haunted with the spirit of the little boys who used to live ‘ere?” He asked, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“No little boys died here. A few moved out a long time ago though.” She told him. The food was ready so she put it on another plate and she grabbed a minimal portion for herself and left him to choose how much of a large portion he wanted. He seemed unsure still and only took a little.

“Why aren’t you in a bomb shelter?” He asked.

“I don’t feel a need.” She told him. She wanted to ask him the same question but she didn’t want to scare him off either. They ate in silence, after he seemed to realize that the food wasn’t poisoned he began heaping large portions onto his plate. It reminded her of America. 

“This is really good Miss!” He told her with his mouth full. Now she was definitely thinking about America.

“Thank you, you’re welcome to come over anytime you want some more. I’m sure you saw that I have extra.” She told him and waited a moment before adding, “you can bring any friends too. I have plenty of space.” He looked at her wide-eyed with a hint of suspicion. 

“Why are you so friendly, you caught me stealing food and now you’re offering me to bring my friends. Seems like a witch like thing to me.” He told her, and she held back rolling her eyes. It was just common decency to help a child in need, especially since she had so much extra. She had plenty of England’s money she hadn’t spent and she still had extra food around. Helping a starving child was natural. But he was a kid, one who would probably act like she was pitying him for her actions. So she had to come up with some self serving reason to help him.

“You’ve seen how big this house is, it used to be full of people. But everyone’s gone off to fight the war leaving me alone. Is it so wrong for me to want some company?” She lamented. Truth was she was a little lonely, she wouldn’t mind if Canada was still there, or America. She even missed England a little although she wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone. She just spent day in and day out alone, listening to the radio, going through England’s things, writing poetry, it all got a little dull after a while. He nodded at her statement slowly and the rest of dinner was spent in silence. When he was finished she took his plate and started cleaning it. He got up.

“I’m going to go.” He told her. She nodded.

“Don’t forget the can opener, third drawer to the right.” She told him. He took it and off he went. Greenland saved the rest of the ham and decided she would need to go shopping in the morning.


	2. Chapter Two: And Then There Were Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greenland goes through another day before guests arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAHHH You guys someone commented. My life is complete. Thank you so much, I have this whole story planned but no inspiration to write it but then I saw that someone liked it enough to comment and realized I had to continue it! So thank you! Your guys comments mean so much to me. This chapter is kinda filler but also important because we get to meet some more important players! We also get a look into how Greenland spends her days. If you guys would like to read any of the poems Greenland writes let me know and I will do my best to make that happen! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

She had gone shopping and got some more ham and a bit of beef. She didn’t know if the boy was going to come back or if he was going to bring others but she wanted to be prepared. Out in town the streets were busy like always with people going to and throe. She stopped in the shop and grabbed her meat, a few vegetables, and fruits as well. She was hoping to be in and out. However Janet was in the store today and she noticed Greenland getting the extra food and couldn’t keep her curiosity to herself.

“Oh, are you planning a party Ms. Kirkland?” Greenland did not let the irritation of being addressed by England’s last name show. At least she wasn’t being addressed by that fake name England gave her. 

“Of sorts.” Greenland replied, because one could call it a party, it was a dinner get together with some people. Maybe. It just happened to be homeless kids. No one else really needed to know that. They’d want to get the police involved and then Greenland would have to be involved with the police and that was messy. Then she would lose the trust of the boy too. She didn’t even know his name, what help could the police be? Janet seemed to cheer up at the response and started going on about what kind of party she wanted to put on after the war was over. Greenland stood and nodded politely as she desperately wished to herself that she could just pay and leave. She didn’t want to decorate the house and buy flowers to put up just to watch them die soon. Nor did she want to mingle with people she barely knew and talk house about what their families were up to, she couldn’t even talk about that kind of thing with humans. It would go a little like “hello yes this man who stole me from my home but raised me like one of his own children has gone off to war leaving me alone in his house with money and nothing to do.” Maybe they would be interested to hear about her poetry? But she couldn’t publish any of it under England’s orders and she really didn’t want to push it that much to try while he was gone. Would they want to hear about the books she had read? Probably not. She tended to bore other people with her interests. Eventually Janet let her go and Greenland escaped the store and went back home.

She put the meat away and grabbed paper and a pencil and turned the radio on to listen to news. She hadn’t received a letter from England or Canada in awhile so she was hoping for one today to get an update on how things were going from a familiar voice, even if she couldn’t technically hear it. She jotted down some images that she got while listening to the war, fire consuming houses and guns firing and roaring. She tried to take these images and describe them but it felt like every metaphor or personification she did had already been done. She needed a muse that wasn’t about the war. So she thought about the boy. She wrote down everything she could remember about the interaction. Inspiration started flowing better and she started putting down lines. The problem was she liked to write with a message in mind as well as images, and she wasn’t sure what to put behind this. So she played with it, she tried starvation, human kindness, human cruelty, childhood innocence. She played with it so much that she almost missed the mail, but she didn’t thankfully and she got up and got her letters. One was from England and the other was from Canada. They didn’t usually arrive on the same day, she didn’t look too far into why these two did. 

England mostly went on about the war front and the money he sent to her. He asked for things in the house to stay tidy and asked about a few people in the city that Greenland didn’t really know or care about but she’d check on anyway so she wouldn’t have to hear the complaining when he got home. Canada on the other hand wrote about many different things. He talked about how he hoped America would join the war and how the soldiers were being affected. He talked about the sights he was seeing and how they were being destroyed. How England was more moody, France was depressed. Canada’s letter was much more interesting. After that she went and put the letters in her room and started cleaning up the house. She dusted and swept and made sure everything was in its place. Once she was done with that she started writing back to Canada. It would take longer to write back to England since she had to go talk to other people so she’d wait. She answered Canada’s general questions, how she was, was she safe, and the sort. She told him how sad it was that those sights were disappearing. She said she hoped America joined the war too, although for his sake she hoped he stayed out of the actual fighting. Everyone who had gone into it was already seeming to come out more depressed, she didn’t know how she’d feel to see a truly depressed America. It seemed like the world would come to an end. Plenty of people thought that was the truth of what was happening anyway. She didn’t think so, they had gotten through the Great War and they could get through this one as well. No one had mentioned to her countries personifications disappearing, if that started happening she would worry more. Then again that could be happening and they were just not telling her so she wouldn’t worry. She tried not to think about it. She considered telling Canada about the boy but decided against it. He might mention it to England and while England could be a bleeding heart for children at times that also meant he would probably want her to do her best to get the child out of London. She kept the information to herself and kept the letter brief. 

Once she was done with the letter she did the necessary procedure to get it off and sent which killed some more of her time. That was what she really spent her days doing, killing time until the next day. Once she was back home she sat by the radio and started working on her poem again. At least she had that to do. She was glad that England had put that in her studies, she did miss getting to talk about it afterwards. Work shopping her poems was actually some of their calmest times. It was less arguing and more just intellectual discussion. She wondered if England missed those conversations as well. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want to be here anyway. Part of the reason she was so calm during those discussions was to prove to him that she was mature enough to be on her own. Maybe leaving her at his home was a test to see if he could let her go? She didn’t know. These thoughts weren’t helping with the poem. The radio was going on about what was happening in France. It had been awhile since she had seen France. England didn’t bring him over as much for their nightly escapades after the Great War, everyone was too busy with the economic decline. According to Canada’s letters she didn’t really want to see him. She didn’t like being around France when he was sad. He was very existential in those moods and it always succeed in making her feel miserable as well. She wasn’t very good at bringing people up. She was very good at tearing them down, but she tried hard not to do that anymore. She still wasn’t focusing on her poem. She put the pencil down and went to the book shelf to look for something to read. It felt like she had already read it all before. She could go out and buy more, but she didn’t want to leave the house for a third time. She sat in a kitchen chair and looked out the window. The sun was starting to go down. Maybe the boy would come soon.

She started to prepare a ham dinner fit for at least four. She didn’t know if he would bring friends or family along but she doubted he would bring many people if he brought any from how skittish he was. If he did she could prepare more. She was about half way done when there was a knock on the door. She left and went to the door to find the boy with an even younger girl holding his hand and a boy that looked to be his age maybe older. The little girl’s face was covered in freckles and her hair was a brighter red. She wore a light blue dress that was as torn and dirty as the boy's hand she was holding. Her hair was long and tangled. She couldn’t be older than five. The new boy was tanner than the other two and had dirty blond hair that had grown out to look shaggy and covered his eyes. He held himself with an air of wariness that she couldn’t fault him for. Greenland stepped aside to let them in which they all did with hesitance. She closed the door behind them and made her way to the kitchen. She wasn’t really sure what to say to them. She wanted to know their names. It was one thing to refer to one strange boy in her house as boy but now there were two strange boys in her house and she didn’t really want to have to just call them blond boy and ginger boy. But maybe names were still pushing their boundaries too far. But not saying anything seemed to lead to all of them staring at her while she cooked. So she had to say something.

“I’m making ham, you could all sit at the table, or I could tell you where the plates and utensils are and you could help set it while you wait?” She wasn’t sure if they would be more comfortable just resting or doing something with their hands so she gave them the option. “I could also get a hair brush if you want?” Now she wasn’t sure if she was being rude with that statement or not but she personally couldn’t stand having knots in her hair. They’d rub against her neck and itch. Someday she was going to cut her hair off so she wouldn’t have to worry about snarls and brushing. But the public wouldn’t like that so long hair she was stuck with. 

“Why should we help you? We didn’t ask for your help.” New taller boy asked with more aggression than she was expecting. He had a thicker accent than the other, one associated with the lower class. His shirt was brown and the sleeves had been ripped off to show scratched and bruised arms. 

“No you didn’t, and you don’t have to help. I just wanted to offer in case you wanted something to do.” She told him calmly. She had grown used to reacting calmly when someone lost their temper around her. It was easier to do when it was a child than when it was a grown man though. 

“Can I have the brush?” The little girl spoke up, which seemed to surprise both boys. Greenland nodded and went out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room. She had two brushes, one just in case the first broke which was mostly unused. So she took that one and went back down the stairs. Entering the kitchen the ginger boy and his sister were sitting next to each other at the table, with the ginger boy in the chair next to Greenland’s and the girl on his other side. The blond boy was going through her drawers and sticking the fancier looking utensils in his pockets. He was probably going to try to sell them. England would be mad, they were probably old and important. She didn’t really care, she could see how long it would take England to notice they were gone when he came back. If he asked about it she could say there was a break in at one point but she hadn’t noticed anything missing. It was just fancy forks and such. However the ginger boy seemed annoyed.

“James stop it! The nice lady is giving us free food you shouldn’t steal from her.” The ginger boy argued and the blond boy, who was apparently named James rolled his eyes.

“The lady is rich, I doubt she’ll notice a few forks and knives missing. She let you take that can opener right?” James said to which ginger boy pouted a bit.

“That’s exactly why we shouldn’t steal from her! She’s giving us good things for free! If she finds out you’re stealing from her despite her opening her home to us then she might kick us out, think of Ann at least. I want her to have a good dinner.” Ginger boy went on and now Greenland knew that the little girl's name was Ann. Once again eavesdropping proved its usefulness to her. However that was enough arguing so she decided to just walk into the kitchen. She had been told many times that she was very quiet, and she had worked on perfecting that skill when she was younger so she could run away easier. So James didn’t even notice her walking in, but ginger boy and Ann watched her with anxious eyes. She handed Ann the hair brush and went back to cooking.

“You should see how many fancy forks they got Ollie! I could probably get a lot of pounds with these, we wouldn’t need to go to the weird witch's house for meals.” James went on and dammit Greenland was not a witch. She really didn’t like magic. She had watched England mess up to many times, or had those mess ups affect her to want anything to do with the stuff. 

“You would need to be able to cook the food still. You might want to spend the money on clothes that will better protect you from the weather.” Greenland suggested and James jumped and dropped the fork he had in his hand to the floor. He looked at her for a moment with an expression of someone that had been hit for something like this before, Greenland could remember seeing herself look like that in the reflection of a glass once. It was a little feral, frozen with tension but a glare to scream get away from me. Greenland just kept cooking, staying a little turned so she could see them but not enough where they would think she was staring. Eventually he started to relax and turned away from her and picked the fork off the floor and shoved it into his pocket. Ann was struggling with the brush and ginger boy, now known as Ollie was glaring at James.

“They’ll just get torn and dirty again, so there’s no point. Food is more important.” James muttered and sat at the table next to the empty head on the other side of where Greenland was going to sit. They fell into silence beside the occasional grunt and whimper from Ann. Ollie tried to help but Ann insisted that he was doing it wrong and kept trying to do it on her own. When the food was almost done she set the table with what forks and knives were left and nice plates. She set the main piece of food down so they could grab as much as they wanted and waited until they were done before she grabbed any herself. She didn’t get much, Ollie had grabbed much more than he had the night before and grabbed plenty for Ann who Greenland suspected was his sister. James took a medium sized portation and began to eat it with his hands instead of the utensils. Greenland didn’t say anything about it, it wasn’t sanitary by any means but if he was doing it he was doing it for a reason. This is why she wouldn’t make a good mom. She wasn’t very into telling the children what to do. Although it was becoming a bit painful to watch Ann try to brush her hair and eat at the same time. Greenland finished quickly, she had never been a big eater. Ann seemed to have given up on eating and was just trying to brush her hair. 

“Do you want help?” Greenland asked after watching for a full minute of Ann trying to pull the hairbrush out of her hair. The little girl looked to Ollie and while James was shaking his head no Ollie shrugged and Ann reluctantly nodded her head. Greenland went over and as gently as she could, took the hair brush out of the tangle and started at the bottom, holding the hair at the top so it would pull less. She tried to be gentle but she had never brushed someone else’s hair so she wasn’t really sure she was succeeding. 

“So witch, do you just let every kid come in here and steal your things?” James asked.

“I’m not a witch, and you’re not stealing my things, so it doesn’t bother me much. Not many children come here so it’s hard to say if I’d let every child do so.” Greenland went on.

“If you’re not a witch then how do you have so much nice stuff despite never leaving the house? Soldiers don’t make this much.” James stated.

“Not normal soldiers no. But I live with a very high in command soldier.” Greenland answered.

“Is it true that you’ve lived here for over a thousand years?” Ann asked.

“No, it’s only been a few hundred at most.” Greenland answered, mostly because telling the truth to a bunch of children wouldn’t really affect anything. It was a small rebellion. One that would hopefully work in her favor. Ann’s turned and pulled her own hair to look at her and Ollie’s eyes had gone very wide. James glared.

“I thought you said you weren’t a witch!” Ollie shouted.

“I’m not, but I live with a wizard. At least I did.” She told them and the children all turned to look at each other.

“So you’re feeding us for him?” James asked.

“No, I’m feeding you because I’m lonely. I told Ollie that this house used to be full. Now I’m all alone. People don’t like to talk to me.” She went on, keeping her story from before. She went back to brushing Ann’s hair. She was at least making progress on that, and Ann had started eating more. 

“Why do you stay with the wizard?” Ollie asked.

“I don’t have a way to get home. I’m not from here. I’m from Greenland.” She explained.

“Where’s that?” James asked with a scrunched up nose.

“To the north east in the sea. He took me from there a long time ago when I was just a child.” She couldn’t really compare it to any of their ages, she was already older than all of them when she was taken, but for nations that was still the age for a child. 

“Why did he do that?” Ollie asked, and Greenland took a deep breath. She didn’t want to just go out and say it was to own her and claim her as a possession, because if England came home she didn’t need the children arguing with him. Then she wouldn’t get to help them. But she hated putting it in a good light. 

“There was a misunderstanding. He thought I was alone and needed help. He may be a wizard but he’s not an evil one.” And she did believe that a least a little. She didn’t think he was evil. She thought he was a person, and people make mistakes and have ugly parts of them that they don’t like. Living with someone for so long she was bound to see these parts of him. Living with her so long he had seen some of her ugly side too. It made things difficult sometimes but other times it made things easier, she was a lot better at keeping him in a good mood at least.

“Do you miss your home?” Ann asked quietly.

“Very much.” Greenland responded.

“I miss my home too.” Ann answered and the room fell silent again. Greenland went through and brushed all of Ann’s hair until one could run their fingers through it without getting caught. She gave the brush to Ann and told her to keep it.

“What’s your name Miss?” Ollie asked as she went to clean up their plates.

“ K'âjúnguaĸ.” It felt weird saying her real name. She had kept it hidden for so long so England wouldn’t find out about it. But England wasn’t around and it wasn’t like these runaways were going to spread it through the whole town. She turned to look at them and saw them staring at her a bit blankly. “But you can call me K.” She amended and they nodded. Maybe she’d be able to teach them the pronunciation after awhile. It’d be nice to hear her name spoken again.

“Well we’re popping off Miss K, thanks for dinner.” Ollie said.

“It was really good!” Ann added. James rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything.

“You’re welcome back anytime.” Greenland answered and listened for the door to close. She was left in an empty house once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought below! Stay safe and have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought below. Stay safe and have a great day!


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